Chicago Blackhawks center Jonathan Toews, left, gets called for high sticking on Ducks center Ryan Kesler during the second period of Game 4 of the Western Conference finals Saturday at the United Center in Chicago.

Late Saturday night, they gushed about their successful third-period comeback, they clung to the faith exhibited in their utter refusal to surrender and they preached absolute certainty that the results of Game 4 would help them in their pursuit of Game 5.

And that was both teams, the sounds of acquired and renewed coming in stereo, the statements in the respective United Center locker rooms almost identical until reaching the punctuation marks. The Blackhawks were smiling, the Ducks not exactly.

But even then there was a notable similarity. This is hockey, so neither team was showing a lot of teeth.

Tied in games at 2-2, this matchup has been so even that the differences can be measured best microscopically. And why not, given the levels of DNA these players have dripped onto the ice so far?

“I think this series has been played very tight,” explained Chicago coach Joel Quenneville, who doesn’t always say things that are as obvious as the former Sears Tower is tall. “Can’t be any more even than what I saw in four games.”

The Ducks and Blackhawks actually could be more even, but that would require the teams still being back at United Center, battling in Game 4 and about to begin what, the 157th overtime?

Wait, scratch that. Let’s not give these guys any ideas.

As it is, even some folks in the press box Saturday appeared in need of intravenous fluids between the overtimes. Hey, especially in a town like Chicago, you can’t let these games cut too deeply into your drinking time.

“It’s one game,” forward Corey Perry said after the Ducks lost, 5-4, in double overtime. “We’re still excited. We’re going home in front of our crowd. It’s one shot away.”

One shot away? That phrase pretty much captures this series to date.

Since Game 1, when the Ducks had a multiple-goal lead for nearly 23 minutes, the teams have spent a stunning amount of time separated by almost nothing. In fact, if the Ducks and Blackhawks tried to draw any closer in Game 5 on Monday, they’d be standing behind each other.

In the past three games, the score has been tied or the difference has been one goal for all but three minutes, 59 seconds. That’s total.

And the Ducks and Blackhawks have played for 261 minutes, 49 seconds during that stretch, meaning they’ve been no more than a single goal apart for 98.5 percent of the time. One shot away, indeed.

Those figures are plus or minus a fleeting few seconds here or a dinged crossbar there or a comically impossible save by one of the goalies here and there.

That’s nearly 41/2 hours of one-possession hockey, 41/2 hours of being one mistake or one brilliant play from something seismic, 41/2 hours of delicious – if there can be such a thing – acid reflux.

“A lot of guys are doing the right things,” forward Andrew Cogliano said after the Ducks had surrendered their second skate-off goal of the series. “That’s a good sign. We’re going home and we have to make it tough on them there.”

These four games have been a genuine treat to witness, like eating candy but with the rush coming from something other than sugar. Let’s pause here to recognize how lucky we all are to have this opportunity.

You know, we could be trying to watch the NBA’s conference finals right now instead. Over there entering Sunday, one series was 3-0 with the other heading that way, and teams that fall behind by that margin in that league are eventually 0-116 in the series overall.

I mean, that’s as dramatic as watching the paint dry compared to the NHL, where drama can be found even in watching the blood dry.

I’ve already written a column contrasting the NHL’s and NBA’s playoffs, which, especially this spring, is unfair. Frankly, it’s like comparing apples to oranges, oranges covered with that weird greenish mold.

But this much is worth noting: On the same night the Ducks and Blackhawks were practically playing their spleens out for 85-plus minutes, the Houston Rockets were losing at home by 35 points to the Golden State Warriors.

Afterward in Chicago, no one on either team said they were playing “too relaxed” like Houston’s James Harden did or announced the opposition “just played harder than us” like teammate Dwight Howard did.

Hockey players, particularly at this point of the postseason, just seem too proud, too strong-willed, too – I don’t know the word – hockey-ish to allow that to happen.

So now comes Game 5 at Honda Center, another chance for the Ducks and Blackhawks to try for some separation.

Don’t count on either team succeeding. I’m just glad they’re required to wear different uniforms. Otherwise, it might be impossible to tell which team is which.

It sure is an interesting dynamic, players insisting on being so close when – deep down, they would have admit about now – they really don’t like each other much at all.

Jeff Miller has been a sports columnist since 1998, having previously written for the Palm Beach Post, South Florida Sun-Sentinel and Miami Herald. He began at the Register in 1995 as beat writer for the Angels.

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